Reassurance
by MissJesselle
Summary: Wherein Jim puts on weight and Spock shows him that it's OK.


_Star Trek does not belong to me._

_*****_

Around the third failed attempt to fasten his Starfleet uniform trousers, it occurred to Jim that maybe he should have cut down on the steaks. And french-fries. Not to mention the damn chocolate chip cookies his mother kept pushing his way.

It was a week before he and his crew – which would be mostly comprised of the old lot, but he was told to expect some fresh faces, too – were scheduled to depart from the Earth for the Enterprise's second Five year mission. The starship in question was currently docked in San Francisco, undergoing last-minute brush-ups that would ensure her continued state-of-the-art-ness.

Jim's plans for today had been to catch a transport from Iowa to California, report to the administrative powers-that-be at the Starfleet Headquarters, check on the ship, and possibly meet up with some of his friends and/or coworkers ... well, maybe there was one particular friend/coworker he was interested in a little more than any of the others.

Either way, this scenario was now being seriously challenged by the fact that he still didn't manage to button his pants.

"Oh dammit!" he commented on his lack of progress and let the uncooperative piece of clothing fall down, stepping out of it. "How did _this_ happen?" _This_ referring to all the extra padding around his waist he had no practical use for.

Well, he did have a theory, mostly premised on him having stayed at his mother's for the past two months and doing nothing else but lying around and taking advantage of the availability of unreplicated food. Looking at it this way, the weight gain seemed the logi – _oh no, don't go there –_ um, _natural_ consequence of these circumstances.

However, he did not suppose the prospect of shedding the pounds in a matter of hours was a realistic one and sooner or later, he had to get back to the HQ. So, screw the uniform, he would just have to settle for slacks.

*

As the train to San Francisco whizzed past the monotonous countryside, Jim strove to keep his thoughts in line and not wandering to places he had carefully been avoiding for the duration of his leave. Failing at it miserably once more, he revisited his contemplations on the Spock theme.

It hadn't been _exactly_ friends with benefits – Spock was too conservative to openly agree with such a concept – but it was close. Once they had admitted that in addition to their excellent professional and friendly relations, there was also a mutual attraction, there was no reason _not_ to occasionally provide sexual gratification for each other. And if 'occasionally' transmuted through 'pretty often' into 'almost every night', then why the hell not, they were consenting adults.

The most important thing was, the sex only agreement worked like a charm. There were no _Where are we, really?_ discussions, no plans for the future, no reproaches, no demands, no obligations. A win-win situation.

But as the end of the Enterprise's Five year mission began to loom, Jim found himself growing nervous. For Spock's sake, naturally, _he_ was the one prone to develop an attachment, or perhaps even a full-blown commitment. What would it be like for him when they were no longer governed by the Enterprise's needs? What would happen to _their_ needs? Even to Jim, the prospect of not being locked up in a starship with Spock for the majority of time seemed bleak. He worried about the evolution of their not-relationship.

They needed to talk about it, only Jim wasn't sure how. He kept thinking about bringing it up and then mollifying himself with the notion that there was _still_ time. When _that_ excuse couldn't stand anymore, Jim began to speculate whether Spock perhaps took it for granted they would carry on in this ... _arrangement_ on Earth the same way they did in Space.

But then, one day, quite out of the blue, Spock approached him, all business-like, and instead of hearing a report on the Enterprise's current assignment as he expected, Jim was doused with the following:

"As soon as the administrative matters are dealt with at the Headquarters, I shall depart to New Vulcan. I have promised to assist in some of their rebuilding endeavors there and also intend to re-establish my connection with the Vulcan principles. Provided the Enterprise is indeed commissioned for another expedition, I would of course be interested in returning."

Jim just stared at him and then blinked, hurriedly reacting: "Great. Great. So – I guess I'll look forward to seeing you, um, whenever I do. Back in San Francisco, right? Well I hope everything goes well on New Vulcan. And um, good luck, I suppose."

So he had finally found out where he stood, Jim reminisced, looking at the blur of landscape behind the train window. But it sure hadn't seemed like a win, had it?

And on top of disillusioned and rejected, he was now also _fat _and this whole thing magnificently sucked.

*

When he arrived to San Francisco, Jim went to report to Starfleet Command and, finding that there was not much else he could do there, register at the accommodation facility.

And since it _was_ now past noon and it _wasn't_ like he was all of a sudden going on a hunger strike, he headed down to one of the Headquarters canteens for something low-calorie.

Enduring the gazes of those diners who recognized him but didn't know him well enough to do much more than stare, he dropped his travel bag in one of the empty booths, walked over to the greens table and frowned on the rich, but still largely unappetizing selection. How anyone could live on this and still maintain a positive outlook on the Universe and life in general escaped him.

Well, Spock, for a example, got by with this sustenance just fine. But then, _he_ had made a conscious choice.

Jim reached for an avocado.

Because Spock, of course, with his thin frame, didn't face the problem of being _forced_ to take such desperate measures.

From there, Jim proceeded to wonder whether this was caused by Spock's different physiology or by his temperate eating habits. Jim realized he had never seen Spock eat anything but tastelessly looking plant things, suspiciously multi-colored soups or a combination thereof. But he had also never seen a Vulcan who wasn't tall and lean.

_But then again_, he had never seen a Vulcan who didn't wear the uniform bowl cut or the trademark neutral-but-actually-kinda-condescending expression. And that was hardly a matter of genetics.

Well, it was a conundrum, Jim pondered, still absently holding the avocado.

So he _did _ drop it, when an all too familiar voice wished him a good afternoon from behind his back.

"Oh hello, Spock," Jim tried his best to recover from the shock, "fancy seeing you here." He made to pick the avocado up from the floor, but Spock was faster:

"Your nourishment pattern appears to have undergone drastic changes," he said, handing it back to Jim.

"Yeah, I thought I was gonna go for something low-fat for a change." Jim explained, earning himself a raised eyebrow.

"And yet, from the multitudes of fruits available on this planet you have selected the one which contains the highest level of fat."

"... I thought it was a vegetable." Jim said feebly. "I really _do_ make some bad dietary choices."

"Perhaps they are required to balance your excellent choices as regards other … necessities." Spock made something of a suppressed shrugging shoulder move and started listing many of the fruit's benefits and then smoothly invited himself to join Jim for lunch.

The conversation that ensued was polite and easy-flowing; Spock talked about the growing colony, describing the incredible progress the Vulcans had made in the course of the past five years. Jim didn't have anything so interesting to mention, so he just kept asking additional questions or encouraging Spock ahead in the _Really? Mmm? Sounds great! _kind of way.

So it was not awkward at all.

Jim honestly tried to keep up with Spock's incessant information supply, but since he had visited New Vulcan only once and only very briefly, he didn't have much to draw from. So he just observed Spock, trying to pinpoint what it was that seemed changed about him. Well, obviously it was the slightly longer hair, but something more substantial as well, perhaps something about his attitude?

As soon as Spock finished his soup – and long after Jim was done with the flavorless buttery _fruit_ – the presumed change was accentuated by Spock's sudden non-sequitur:

"Have you already acquired your temporary quarters?"

Jim nodded in confirmation.

"I suggest we go inspect it."

*

On the way to the Starfleet officers lodgings, Jim, feeling painfully self-conscious, tried his best to keep his belly sucked in and somehow adjust his posture to be more flattering - and naturally achieved only drawing Spock's attention.

"Are you quite alright, Jim?" he stopped, regarding him.

Time for the pathetic confession. "Um, yeah," Jim took a breath and continued, "well, I kinda put on a little weight and I was hoping that maybe you wouldn't notice?"

"Do I appear blind to you?"

Well, that was pretty mean.

Spock indicated that they resume their walking and then evidently felt the need brief Jim on the inevitability of genetic predisposition and the slowing down of metabolism. It made Jim feel even more miserable, because judging from Spock's resoluteness as to their destination, it looked like he was in for some epic pity sex.

"After all, you are thirty years old." Spock finished his lecture, as they arrived to the door of Jim's designated quarters.

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Jim asked with some sarcasm, punching in the code.

"Not necessarily. These were merely basic facts whose purpose is to inform and educate, not please."

They entered the spacious room; Jim threw his bag in the corner and then just stood there, nonplussed.

Spock put down his duffel bag, took off his uniform jacket, hanged it on a chair and matter-of-factly moved to stand directly in front of him. Jim could feel the heat coming from Spock's body, so close to his own. Spock simply gazed at him unfathomably for a moment and then placed his hands on Jim's shoulders.

It was the first time they made physical contact and it sent electric currents down Jim's skin.

Spock leaned to Jim's ear and said, in a low voice: "I shall presently endeavor to deliver what you seek."

Detecting Spock's husky undertone, some remnants of Jim's default cheeky confidence automatically kicked in:

"And what do you think I seek, Spock?"

"Reassurance." Spock whispered, dropping his hands down to Jim's waist.

Spock acted with such a clear sense of purpose that had Jim once again wondering whether he was just imagining it or Spock's sojourn on New Vulcan made him somewhat different from the Spock he had known before.

But then their mouths locked together and their tongues met, eager and sloppy.

Continuing to kiss him, Spock backed Jim toward the bed and they lowered themselves down on it.

Both were already breathing hard and there was a hot hand on Jim's thigh and he felt the blood rushing downward, relieving his mind of all doubt and insecurity, because they were now back at it like before, and it didn't really matter what Spock's motivation was, impatient, Jim seized Spock's hand, intending to -

But then Spock abruptly broke their embrace, drew away and instructed: "Remove your clothes."

Definitely different from before.

Jim stared at Spock, who seemed suddenly so distant, exhilaration fading away.

Clearly inferring that he needed to set an example, Spock stood up and began methodically undressing, only the green blush in his cheeks giving away the purpose. Once he had made a neat pile on the chair, he looked at Jim expectantly. This did kind of kill the magic.

Painstakingly, Jim started removing his socks.

"I see you require my assistance," Spock evaluated the situation, way too composed for his nakedness.

He sat back down, his bare thigh touching Jim's, and reached to undo Jim's slacks. Jim suppressed the urge to move forward, instead letting Spock do as he liked, and as slowly as he wanted to.

What Spock liked next was sneak his hands underneath Jim's shirt, tentatively feeling the pliant flesh there. He caressed and squeezed it and then hitched the shirt all the way up and – Jim hesitated briefly and then took it from him and quickly pulled it off completely.

That exposed to the crisp daylight all Jim's newly acquired flab, something Spock hadn't most likely expected to find on his lover's body when they reunited.

As if sensing his uncertainty, Spock assessed Jim's exposed torso with his eyes: "Do not concern yourself, Jim, I find your altered body shape rather appealing."

To prove his words, he returned his attentive hands back to Jim's softened stomach, fondling it some more, Jim turned toward him and found his mouth again, thrusting his tongue inside, at the same time tracing his hand up the inner side of Spock's thigh.

They moaned, and Jim quickly fumbled with his underwear and pants, kicking them off, then scrambled fully on the bed, breathing heavily again, Spock slid up on him and licked and nibbled his neck, they were both hard against each other now, the lust and desire building up -

Jim was going to say they didn't have any lubricant, but it just came out as a groan -

"Not … necessary," Spock rasped and he was probably right, they were close to climax just grinding against each, Spock bit at the skin above Jim's collarbone and then grabbed Jim around his midsection and rolled him on top of himself -

"When I said … rather appealing … what I meant was – aaah – greatly arousing," Spock breathed raggedly, digging his nails into Jim's love handles and pushing him down -

They continued at it some more, and Jim found himself thinking:

_So beautiful so supple so … oh Jim_! Except more like _Oh Spock_, because he couldn't really focus, not now... and then there was the tingling and the shuddering and it was over.

*

Afterwards, they lay together, drowsy and silent. Jim was on his side, Spock holding him in a loose embrace from behind, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Jim's stomach, occasionally pressing down, massaging it, as if he couldn't get enough of it.

Which, by all appearances, was probably true.

But even so:

"Sorry about being so whiny before."

"I did not interpret your behavior as whiny," Spock told him after a moment.

"Well, that's that impression I made on myself ... anyway ... thank you," Jim said and then added, "for the reassurance."

Spock was silent for a while again and then lazily brought his face closer to Jim's. "Has it occurred to you that I might have enjoyed giving as you did receiving?"

The openness stunned Jim a little so he didn't find anything more constructive to reply than: "Mmm."

So this was it, their … relationship was renewed and going strong, although the exact terms still weren't quite clear, but maybe they would never be.

Nonetheless Spock had other aces up his sleeve:

"During my stay on New Vulcan," he said unexpectedly, "I have resolved not to deprive myself of your presence for such a profound period of time ever again. It was a most unpleasant experience."

Jim smiled: "Yeah, I missed you too."

*****

_Thank you reader, please review._


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